


Suitably Acceptable

by chase_acow



Series: The Love Ballad of McKay and Mitchell [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Happy Ending, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-16
Updated: 2007-05-16
Packaged: 2017-10-17 11:04:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/176211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chase_acow/pseuds/chase_acow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>The SGC and the SGA crews weren’t rivals, exactly, more like siblings who competed over everything.  Including the jello.</i> (Cam pov)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suitably Acceptable

**Author's Note:**

> beta again by [](http://vipersweb.livejournal.com/profile)[**vipersweb**](http://vipersweb.livejournal.com/) who I owe great thanks and perhaps a sacrificial lamb.  
> 

To say that the SGC was a little crowded from the sudden influx of Atlantis personnel would be a bit of an understatement. Cameron couldn’t turn around without running into some Atlantian who still hadn’t figured out how to use their keycards. He’d actually had to give up his office so Weir could have some peace and quiet to put together her reports. He was now relegated to a table in the mess that he stole from whichever airmen were the lowest on the totem pole.

It wasn’t like the Ori decided to call a time out so that the SGC could figure out what the hell was going on. Cameron had already had to break up a fight over who was the best super-enemy, the Wraith or the Goa’uld/Ori, and he’d gotten a fat lip for his trouble. The SGC and the SGA crews weren’t rivals, exactly, more like siblings who competed over everything. Including the jello.

SG-1 was on stand down, since Landry had been pulling his hair out over what to do with all the recent arrivals. Unofficially, they were now glorified babysitters to a bunch of adults who clearly did not want to be here. His granny would have said it was just like herding cats, but less effective. Three days in and the chaos had yet to abate.

He’d even had to squash down his immediate urge to drag Rodney off into a supply closest since the first time they ran into each other Rodney had leveled a glare at him fit to make paint peel. Cameron couldn’t help that he was happy that Rodney was back despite the circumstances; hell, he wasn’t sure that it was a bad thing. The Ancients would probably have more luck stemming off the Wraith, anyway. His and Rodney’s standoff wouldn’t last forever, but Cameron wasn’t reckless enough to poke an already angry dragon.

“Cam!”

Now that was a voice that could make him smile no matter what. He stopped and turned around in the hallway, a scientist that had been following him detoured to the left without even looking up from his paper. From down the hallway, Sam came jogging up, hair even more askew than normal and an expression on her face that he’d never seen before.

“Hey Sam,” Cameron said, resting his hands on his hips and raising an eyebrow. “Long time, no see.”

She’d been caught up in meetings, debriefings, and the best think tank the SGC could come up with. Cameron hadn’t seen her in a couple days, and almost wished that he’d been as busy. Sheppard’s reports were interesting, but not very useful against the Ori.

“You have to save me, Cam,” she said, not pausing from her jog, merely snagging his jacket and pulling him along until they could duck into a shallow alcove. “He’s driving me insane, and when I get him calmed down, in comes the other one to stir things up. It’s a never ending cycle of either teenage courtship or masculine posing. I can’t quite tell.”

Cameron laughed. Sam looked as if she was barely keeping her claws in the last threads of her sanity, and it really shouldn’t be funny, because anything that could reduce Sam to this was serious business. On the other hand Sam was reminding him of his favorite younger cousin who on her first visit to the county house found herself way over her head. She was younger than Cameron, and had been outraged at everything from the early mornings, lack of cable, to the rationing of hot water. By her third visit they had her wearing boots and a cowboy hat.

“Can I have a few more proper nouns please?” Cameron asked, trying gallantly and failing miserably to keep the chuckle out of his voice. Sam narrowed her eyes, and Cameron straightened up immediately.

“McKay and Sheppard,” Sam growled and suddenly it wasn’t so funny anymore.

Sheppard wasn’t a bad guy, Cameron even liked him in that we’re-all-flyboys-here kinda way. He thought the other man’s style was too much flash for his bang, but Cameron knew that he had his moments too. Of course, if Sheppard was honing in on Cameron’s territory then it would mean war of a kind that only two highly trained military officers could engage in. There would probably be paperclip missiles involved.

He reached out to grab Sam by the shoulders, “You’re telling me that McKay and Sheppard are, _courting each other_?”

“No,” Sam answered with a sigh, running her hands through her hair and pulling on the ends, cluing Cameron in on how she became so brilliantly coifed. “They’re doing that thing that you and Daniel do, when you have nothing else to do.”

“I do _not_ posture!” Cameron said, crossing his arms over his chest and turning so that he could brood to the side and not straight at Sam. He knew that Rodney was close to Sheppard, but he’d hoped it was just like Cam was close to Teal’c or Sam, friendship between teammates. He’d been so sure that Rodney wasn’t seeing anybody else.

“You’re missing the point,” Sam cried, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around to face her. She leaned up and clutched his face with both her hands, squeezing his cheeks together with her fingers and hauled him down so his eyes were on he same level as hers. “You _will_ help me, and you _will_ get rid of one of them, preferably McKay.”

“Yes ma’am,” Cameron said, though it was hard to enunciate when she was squishing his lips together like she was. He had seen a lot of scary things in his tenure with SG-1, but he never thought Sam was one of them. Now Vala first thing in the morning, that was scary.

Sam’s eyes looked huge so close to his own, her perfect skin going blotchy with color, “I just want twenty-four hours of peace. I don’t care how you do it.”

She let his face go and he sprang back, rubbing his jaw until he got an idea and snapped to attention. He saluted her with his best form and made it until she scowled and turned on her heel to power walk back down the hallway before he broke down into laughter that was nothing at all like giggling.

**

Rodney was easy to find. Apparently word had spread through the SGC staff of which lab not to stick their noses in, and all the SGA personnel were too savvy to be caught in Rodney’s temper. The very first lab tech told him which room to look in, his voice in awe that anyone would _voluntarily_ chance it.

Cameron gave him a wink and started whistling as he walked two corridors down until he found the door he wanted. He opened the door and stepped inside and silently took in the damage; it looked like a tornado had swept through. There were papers, lose wires and bits of tech and tools everywhere. He counted five laptops up and running various simulations, and in the middle of it all was Rodney McKay.

He was wearing a rumpled and stained long sleeved shirt over an equally rumpled and stained undershirt. Both were too big for him, and the pale colors made him look even more washed out under the florescent lighting. Sam was right; he looked like hell and probably felt worse.

“A- _hem_.”

Rodney jerked his head up, and reached out with a hand almost knocking one of a multitude of coffee mugs off the table. For just a moment, Cameron could see the pain and weariness etched into Rodney’s face, and he ached to fix it. Just as quick, the mask was back up with a frown in place.

“What are _you_ doing in here?” Rodney asked, narrowing his eyes, and in a move both unsubtle and ungraceful scrambled behind his lab bench. “What, you run out of Marines to terrorize? Tired of showing them who the Alpha dog around here is?” 

Even counting to hundred wouldn’t have given Cameron enough time to squash his annoyance. No wonder Sam had been so pissed off, it didn’t look like Rodney had stopped to eat, sleep, or even bathe since stepping through the event horizon. He was crankier than a two year old being told it was time for a nap.

“I’m here to save your life, Rodney,” Cameron said rolling his eyes when Rodney jumped and began looking around like he expected Priors to leap through the walls at him. He walked further into the room holding out his hand for Rodney, and wiggling his fingers in a come-here motion, “Come with me if you want to live.”

Rodney ducked a few more seconds, eyes darting to and fro before he suddenly straightened with a scowl, and pointed a finger at Cameron, “That’s a line from _Terminator_!”

Cameron smirked; it figured Rodney would get that one, “Does that make it any less valid in a life or death situation?”

“No, but this is obviously not a life or death situation because there’s no red alert.”

“C’mon Rodney, would I lie to you?” Cameron asked, tipping his head to the side and putting on his best southern boy, yes-sir-I’ll-have-your-daughter-home-by-ten expression.

To his surprise, instead of immediately offering a jibe in return, Rodney stopped to think about it, and shook his head, “Regardless, I don’t have time for fun and games.”

“Who’s having fun?” Cameron asked taking a couple of steps forward to see if Rodney would let him closer. This was just as difficult as fishing a half-wild kitten out from under the washer. “There has been a legitimate threat against your person, and as a senior military officer, I feel it’s my duty to escort you off the premises and to a safe house.”

“What?” Rodney sputtered, his arms coming up and hands flailing. “Who?”

Cameron was close enough now to reach out a hand to the small of Rodney’s back, exerting just the slightest amount of pressure to get the other man moving toward the door. “Well,” he said, pretending to think about it. “I’ll give you a hint. She once blew up a sun.”

Rodney, well, he deflated right in from of Cameron’s eyes. His shoulders slumped and he seemed to curl in on himself, head hanging with his eyes closed. It was only for a second, but that was too long for Cameron to watch.

“Hey, it’s not just your life on the line here pal,” Cameron said, shoving Rodney out the door and flipping the lights off behind him. “If I fail my mission, Sam’ll nail my balls right next to yours in her trophy case.”

“That’s an image I’ll treasure forever,” Rodney muttered, though he did stop dragging his feet and let Cameron lead him to the elevator.

The ride topside was quiet. Every time Cameron snuck a glance sideways, Rodney seemed deep in thought, nervously plucking at his shirt. They only stopped twice, and each time they both drifted to opposite sides of the elevator.

Once in the garage, Cameron nudged Rodney to the left and toward his Jeep. There was always activity, people coming in and going out, but at the moment it wasn’t bad and they made good time. Cameron waved to the guard as they passed the gate and were free on the open road. It didn’t take long to get to Cameron’s house. With all the combat pay he’d been racking up, he’d bought into a little ski village not far from the Mountain. It was a little too upscale for his tastes, making Cameron feel like the country cousin he was, but it was quiet. His house and Jeep were easily the cheapest in the community.

Rodney didn’t say anything as Cameron stopped to key in his code for the residential section. Cameron was starting to worry that maybe Rodney was broken. He’d never been with the man for so long without wallowing in verbal abuse. It was unnerving. “Here we are,” Cameron said once they were both out of the car, spreading his arms and spinning around backwards to watch Rodney’s expression. “Home sweet home.”

“How very nuclear of you. Did you hide the white picket fence in the back?” Rodney asked taking in the single story house with a wrap around deck. Cameron hired out the landscaping so the trees and yard looked just as immaculate as the rest. “Let’s get this over with.”

Cameron smiled, enjoying the return of Dr. McKay. He opened up the front door, and jumped as Rodney shouldered him aside. “After you!” he called out to Rodney’s retreating form. He kicked the door shut behind him and tossed his keys in the bowl he made in his eighth grade art class.

It was easy to follow Rodney’s grunts and curses back to the master bedroom. Cameron leaned against the door frame watching Rodney fight with the laces of his hiking boots. He was faced away from Cameron, bent over at the waist, and as far as Cameron was concerned didn’t need to move again anytime soon. “Whatcha doin’?”

“What does it look like?” Rodney asked irritably, standing up and gesturing abruptly at Cameron. “Just do it and get this over with so I can get out of here.”

“’Do it’?” Cameron repeated, stepping into the room and then ducking to avoid the t-shirt that Rodney flung behind his back. This was not how he had imagined this set up going down. There had been more kissing and declarations of mutual like in his imagination.

Rodney turned and sneered at him, “It’s your turn right? That’s why you brought me here. You want to fuck me.”

“Huh.”

“What ‘huh’?” Rodney turned, his hands stilling on top of his belt buckle. His face was half in shadow, but Cameron could see the shift from arrogance to agitation. “Are you saying that I’m not good enough for you anymore?”

“Whoa! Whoa there,” Cameron said, holding up his hands and flashing back to dusty days spent gentling spastic horses. “I didn’t say anything like that.”

“Well then, stop stalling.”

Cameron walked slowly toward Rodney, gratified that the other man both stood his ground, and kept his gaze locked on Cameron. He stopped just out of arm’s reach and cocked his head, bringing his hand up to his chin as if considering something. “There’s just one problem.”

“What?” Rodney’s expression was guarded, his arms wrapped around his midsection in the clearest posture of defense he could have settled on.

“You, my friend, are a man in need of a shower.”

Rodney squawked in indignation and Cameron took the opportunity to dart in for a kiss. And what a lousy kiss it was, too hard, fast and rough with Rodney trying to pull away and Cameron trying just as hard to hang on for just a second longer. Suave it was not, but something still clicked inside Cameron, saying that he’d waited this long, he’d better not fuck it up now.

“What the hell?” Rodney asked falling backwards onto the bed and staring up at Cameron.

“Shower’s through that door over there,” Cameron said, gesturing with a nod and trying to get his breathing back under control. “Everything you need’s there. Take whatever you want to wear from those drawers there. I’ll have dinner ready in forty-five minutes.”

Rodney was still gaping at him when he turned away and walked out the door. It was either beat a hasty retreat now and cool his jets in the kitchen or take Rodney up on his offer right then and there.

**

“You kissed me.”

Cameron smiled into the skillet where he was stirring potatoes and trying to avoid the grease splatters, “Wow, nothing gets by you does it?”

The potatoes were the last thing he was working on, everything else was already laid out on the table. He craned his head around and saw that Rodney was wearing a pair of dark blue track pants and Cameron’s Kansas University sweatshirt. He’d had that thing so long the Jayhawk was just a cracked smudge of red and blue. A spark jumped straight from his belly to groin at the sight of Rodney wearing his clothes barefoot in the kitchen. He had to turn back around to concentrate on his cooking before he accidentally spilt the hot grease everywhere. “It’ll just be another sec,” he called over his shoulder. “Could you pull a couple of beers out of the refrigerator?”

“Are we eating anything that’s _not_ fried?” Rodney asked as he brushed past Cameron on the way across the kitchen. His feet slapped the tile with heavy smacks, and Cameron wondered if he was that loud out on missions too. “At least you have decent beer,” he sniffed as he brought out two bottles.

“I aim to please,” Cameron said as he flipped off the burner and spooned out the potatoes. The sun was almost to the horizon, shining into the kitchen like a bright orange filter for life. “Grab a plate and sit down.”

Following his own order, Cameron sat down at his small kitchen table and started filling his plate. After just a moment’s hesitation Rodney joined him, sitting primly on the edge of his chair and only taking from the bowls closest to him. Cameron rolled his eyes and started slapping a good portion of everything on McKay’s plate.

Rodney rolled his eyes right back, but picked up his fork to take a bite of the okra, “Thank you _mother_.”

“That’s not my kink, Rodney, but I’m more than willing to role play if you really want too,” Cameron smiled around his mouthful of catfish as Rodney sputtered into his beer turning bright red. “Seriously, I just want you to eat and get a good night’s sleep. I have no ulterior motives. Honestly.”

“I- oh,” Rodney stuttered, picking at his food with his fork. “I thought that you, well- Never mind. Did Sam really threaten to kill me?”

“The short answer is yes and the long answer is that you’re both scarily smart people under a lot of stress,” Cameron answered the abrupt shift in conversation, but still gestured with his fork for Rodney to continue eating. “Besides, I happen to remember you threatening the life of a person or two.”

Rodney made a soft sound under his breath, and that was apparently the end of that conversation. They ate in the quiet, the light darkening around them from orange to a soft yellow, to barely a glow of purple and blue. Cameron flipped the light on as he got up to clean his plate off in the sink. The two of them had pretty much decimated the food he’d made, so after scraping just a few scraps off in the trash he was ready to load the dishwasher. He was just bending up to suggest they move into the living room when Rodney beat him to the punch.

“Hey, I think I’ll just go find your spare room and go to sleep,” Rodney said, from over by the refrigerator, fidgeting and fingering some of the pictures that Cameron’s nieces and nephews had sent back with him from the last time he visited home.

“Actually, there’s no bed in the guest bedroom,” Cameron said rubbing the back of his neck. There really had been no reason to bother; no one ever came out to stay with him. “But you can have my bed. The sheets are cleanish, and I guarantee no monsters under the bed or in the closet.”

Surprisingly, Rodney didn’t argue much and let Cameron shoo him back down the hallway. By sheer force of will Cameron resisted his urge to follow and hover playing the mother hen some more. Instead, he got himself another beer and settled in on the couch to watch a couple of college basketball games he had on DVR.

**

It was still dark when he woke up, and a quick look at his watch told him he’d only been asleep for an hour and it was just past midnight. The TV had clicked over into sleep mode and there wasn’t a street lamp close enough to illuminate the room. He heard the toilet flush, and got up just to make sure that Rodney was doing okay.

He padded down the hall and saw that his bedroom door was cracked and the moonlight was beaming down through the blinds. The door opened silently beneath Cameron’s finger tips as he stuck his head in and looked at the bed. He sighed over the mess Rodney had made of his sheet and blanket, picking them up from the floor and leaving them in a pile in the middle of the empty bed.

When he looked up he saw Rodney watching him from the darkest corner of the room, the shadows making him cold and distant. Cameron sat down in a pool of moonlight on the bed, curving his back and setting his chin in his hands, “Did you sleep at all?”

“Not really,” Rodney answered and his voice is dark and it hurt Cameron to hear it. Tired and sad, and it’s nothing like Rodney, not loud, or passionate or dedicated.

Cameron scrubbed his hands up over his face and sighs, glancing at Rodney through his spread fingers, “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you and made you come out here. I just … I just wanted to make you be okay. I thought we could hang out, have sex, watch a movie or two you haven’t seen.” And what a mess he’d made out of that idea. It was perfectly clear that Rodney didn’t want anything to do with him. Whatever it was they had shared on Atlantis had just been an aberration, and more than likely one-sided. Cameron hoped with a fierce thought for the Ancients and their goddamned city to get blown to hell. What the fuck had he been thinking?

“You wanted all that?” Rodney asked and there was a doubtful note in his voice, but at least it was warm again.

“Well, yeah,” Cameron said honesty, dropping his hands between his knees and looking up at McKay wondering if they’ve ever been on the same page since they met each other. “I’ll take you back if you want. Just let me get my shoes on and we can-”

“What time do you have to be at the SGC tomorrow?” McKay asked, interrupting Cameron and stepping out of the darkness and next to the window, letting the light soften his features, but not the sharpness of his expression.

“Technically, I don’t have to,” Cameron said, scrunching his toes into the carpet and lifting them back out again to admire the ten perfect dents left behind. “I don’t have any meetings on the schedule; I’d just be holding the floor down.”

“Then we could just stay here all day,” Rodney said slowly, sounding out each syllable as if he wanted to test drive them before he committed, “and just ‘hang out’?”

Slowly, a smile spread across Cameron’s face, an inch was an inch, but at least it wasn’t two steps back, “Yeah, we could do that.”

“Also, you are not allowed to cook without my supervision anymore, even I have my limits on fried food intake,” Rodney said, poking Cameron in the chest before he walked around to the far side of the bed. He shifted uncomfortably and then, as if leaping off a high dive fell into the bed, bouncing Cameron up and down.

“It’s a deal,” Cameron said, tapping Rodney on the foot as he got up to go back to the living room, far happier than he’d been since he’d first heard Rodney was coming back to Earth. He was almost to the door when Rodney spoke up from behind him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Rodney said in a voice heading straight for a temper tantrum. “Get back here!”

“Aw, now there’s my Rodney,” Cameron said walking back to the bed and looking down at Rodney who only snorted and scooted over, shaking out a tangled sheet to share. Cameron slid in, tucking his cold feet against each other and sighing back into his pillow.

“So this isn’t just stress relief?” Rodney asked quietly once they were both settled as close as they could get and still not be touching.

Cameron yawned and took the risk of moving closer so that the curve of his hip met with Rodney’s, soothing warmth on a chilly night, “I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling pretty stress free at the moment.”

“Yeah, me too,” Rodney said with a soft exhale, relaxing his body for what was probably the first time in days.


End file.
